


The Real McCallister

by Night_N_Gail



Category: WordGirl (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 17:26:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15934997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Night_N_Gail/pseuds/Night_N_Gail
Summary: “Everything felt so natural before—even things like my voice that were an act! Ever since I decided to stop being a villain, nothing has felt natural. Everything is difficult, and my 'good' behavior always feels… forced. How can any of that be real?” -:- Oneshot; Post-Series





	The Real McCallister

 

_**Hey, readers! This fanfic references the episodes 'Best Fanclub Meeting Ever' and 'Princess Triana and the Ogre of Castlebum.'** _

 

**Foreword:**

**Hello, all! Welcome to my first WordGirl fluffshot. :P I tried my best to write this so that it works as an independent oneshot, but you should know that it _is_ connected to a couple of my other fics. This is sort of an epilogue to my chapterfic _Saving Tobey_ (spoiler warning!), and also sort of a prologue to its sequel fic _Time to Go Home,_ which I plan to start publishing soon. I hope I've done a good job of writing this so that it makes sense even if you haven't read any of my other stories. I'll let you readers be the judges of that. ;)**

 

* * *

 

Quiddity [ **kwid** -i-tee] – the quality that makes a thing what it is; the essential nature of something.

 

« « « « « ж » » » » »

 

Becky Botsford had been looking forward to her thirteenth birthday for the past two months. Of course, she _always_ looked forward to her birthdays, but everyone made such a big deal about thirteen that she couldn't help being a little extra curious about this one. What would being a teenager actually be like? Would the world really change all that much overnight? Would _she_?

For all her contemplations, however, Becky found that being thirteen really didn't feel all that different from being twelve. Her birthday party was wonderful, as always, and she'd noticed a sizable jump in the average retail value of her presents, but as far as she could tell, she was still the same happy, bookish, pony-loving schoolgirl/superhero that she'd always been.

Of course, it had only been one day. There was no telling yet what changes the teen years had in store for her. To be sure, she knew of at least one person her age who _was_ experiencing extreme change with the advent of his thirteenth year, although she knew better than to think it was simply because of the year itself.

Becky looked up from her musings as she approached the playground in the park, and sure enough there he was, waiting for her by the see-saw as promised. Theodore McCallister the Third: former boy terror recently turned good-guy—with a little help from Becky, of course. It was still hard for Becky to believe that barely six months ago she'd made the decision to try to guide Tobey off the path of villainy. In the beginning she had thought it would be impossible, and somehow it was _still_ harder than she'd ever expected. Yet, for all the ups, downs, and roller-coaster drama that had come of the process, here they were—six months later, and Tobey was like a completely different person.

 _Well… a_ mostly _different person, anyway,_ Becky amended with a chuckle when she saw him pull out a remote and summon a robot to shade him from the sun.

“Hey, Tobey,” she greeted.

He started with a slight yelp and turned to face her with a suspicious smile, hiding the remote he was holding behind his back, as though the robot standing beside him wasn't a hundred times more conspicuous.

“Becky,” he greeted cheerfully. “Happy birthday!”

“My birthday was _yesterday_ , Tobey,” she said with a smile, reminding him that he still hadn't explained why he wanted to meet her here, the day _after_ her birthday.

Tobey nodded. “Indeed. Well then, shall we?”

She heard the click of a button being pressed, and the robot suddenly shrank down in size until Tobey was able to pick it up and slip it into one of his pockets.

“Shall we what?” Becky asked, staring after him in puzzlement when he started to walk away.

He turned around to look at her but continued walking backward toward the street. “Why, go get ice cream, of course!”

Becky rolled her eyes and set off after him. He said that like it was so obvious. Knowing him as she did, however, perhaps it _should_ have been.

They strolled together to the ice cream parlor just down the street from the park. Just before they arrived at the front entrance Tobey sped ahead and opened the door for her.

“After you,” he said with a respectful bow, gesturing her inside.

Becky blinked, more impressed than surprised by this. “Thank you,” she said, nodding to him and stepping through the door into the pastel-colored eatery.

Tobey's chivalry stopped there, however. The couple following behind her was obliged to halt abruptly when he let the door fall closed right in their faces. Becky cringed in embarrassment and shot the flustered pair an apologetic grimace as Tobey shamelessly trotted over.

 _That's more like it,_ she couldn't help thinking as she once more rolled her eyes and walked with him to the cashier's counter.

“One deluxe banana split with extra hot fudge, please,” he ordered in a very chipper, very British voice.

“And for you, Miss?” the cashier said.

Becky beamed. Had people ever called her 'Miss,' before? Was that one of the special differences about being thirteen? Or was she just _noticing_ it now that she was thirteen?

“Nothing for her,” Tobey said quite bluntly, jarring Becky from her whimsical musings.

“Huh?” she muttered, stupefied.

The lady behind the counter looked like she was as confused as Becky. She glanced between the two of them a couple of times, and when dumbfounded Becky neglected to argue, she turned back to her register and hesitantly muttered, “Okay, that'll be $3.99.”

Tobey slapped a bill on the counter and impertinently asked her to bring it to their table, then sauntered off into the brightly-lit seating area. Becky frowned after him, still flabbergasted, and watched him survey the inside of the place as though looking for something specific. At last he selected a small polka-dotted table by a large window and took a seat, then smiled expectantly at her from across the small building. Becky shook her head and walked over to his table. She slid into the cherry colored booth seat across from him, studying the impish smile on his face and trying to figure out what his game was. He had been so subdued recently compared to when he was a villain that she'd almost forgotten what a pretentious little minx he could be.

“Sooooo…” she drawled, sensing that Tobey had no intention of offering an explanation, “is there a reason you brought me here?”

'Other than to eat ice cream in front of me, that is,' she resisted the urge to add.

Tobey brightened. “I thought you would never ask.”

With that he knocked twice on the window, and a clunky box-shaped robot hovered into view on the other side. While Becky was still gaping in confusion, Tobey opened the window and the robot perched ungracefully on the windowsill.

“You remember the Fridgeratron?” he asked, pushing a button on the robot's… face?… that caused a panel to slide open, revealing most of its inside to be a single compartment. A flurry of cold air billowed out from it, tickling Becky's face.

 _Fridgeratron…_ “Isn't that the robot you built to fly around the world looking for ice cream?” she asked with a giggle.

With a congratulatory grin, Tobey reached inside the robot's… stomach?… and pulled out a small plastic container covered with ornate lettering… in French.

“We found this in a quaint little creamery in Paris,” Tobey explained, handing the container to Becky. “I believe it's—”

“Sweetpea ice cream!”

Becky gazed excitedly down at the dessert in her hands. Even if her vocabulary powers hadn't allowed her to read the label, the enticing picture of an ice cream cone wreathed in pink sweet pea blossoms would have clued her in.

“It sounds dreadful to me,” Tobey said, “But I thought _you_ might enjoy it.”

Becky was already tearing the top off the package. She grabbed a little plastic spoon from the rack on the edge of the table and gleefully scooped up a mouthful of the greenish stuff.

“Mmmmm,” she squealed with delight, her lips automatically curving into a broad grin. “Tobey, it's… scrumptious! It's the best ice cream I've ever tasted!”

She dove for another mouthful, and Tobey smiled. “I'm… glad you like it.”

Becky paused, spoon still sticking out of her mouth. She almost thought she'd heard his accent slip just then, letting his true voice leak through. She glanced up at him just in time to see him look away, his cheeks flushing the color of the sweet pea blossoms on her ice cream carton.

Becky warmed, suddenly realizing what the sentiment of the gift hearkened back to. Peas were what had given her away all those months ago. She had made a careless comment in the cafeteria at school about how much she loved peas, forgetting Tobey knew that peas were _WordGirl's_ favorite food as well. Who would've guessed that Tobey finally learning her identity would end up being a _good_ thing? If someone had told her a year ago that Tobey McCallister getting in on her secret would ultimately lead to his abandoning villainy and becoming her friend, she would've thought they were crazy. But if she'd known it was true, she would've spilled the peas to him a lot sooner.

“Tobey,” she said, taking a break from her ice cream, “can I ask you a favor?”

She half expected him to make some witty or sarcastic retort. Instead, he just congenially said, “Of course.”

Becky plunged her spoon into the ice cream, leaving its handle sticking straight up in front of her, and she regarded him earnestly as she asked, “Can you talk to me in your normal voice?”

Tobey gave her a puzzled look. “This _is_ my normal voice.”

“Then, talk to me in your _real_ voice.”

At that, some of the color withdrew from Tobey's face. He fidgeted in his seat and looked uncomfortable as he responded with a wavering accent, “Why would… you want me to do _that_?”

“Because I want you to be real with me, Tobey,” Becky said, trying to sound encouraging. You shouldn't feel embarrassed or ashamed of what you sound like. Be true to your true self!”

Becky beamed, feeling proud of how the words had come out. Nonetheless, Tobey shrank in his seat and avoided her gaze. Becky resolutely kept her smile and her eyes fastened on him, surprised at her own determination to convince him. Tobey's false British accent had, of course, been a quirk of his for as long as Becky had known him. Ever since they'd become friends, however, it had represented something of an obstacle in their friendship—or at least it seemed that way to Becky.

He'd spoken to her without his accent _once_ , several months ago, in a moment of heartbroken despondency when he had bared his soul to her. At that moment she had felt like she was seeing the real Tobey for the first time, without all the walls and pretenses he usually put up to protect himself. She would hesitate to admit it, but she missed that realness, that— _closeness_ —and a small, shy part of her wanted it back.

“Please?” she entreated, clasping her hands together in front of her. “For me?”

Tobey hesitated, looking very reluctant, but finally muttered in an uncertain American accent, “Okay… I'll try.”

Just then the cashier came to the table. She glanced awkwardly from the ice cream in front of Becky to the robot sitting in the window, then gave her head a firm shake and set Tobey's banana split on the table in front of him, politely saying, “Here you go, Sir.”

“Oh… thank you,” Tobey said, flopping right back to his fake accent.

The lady walked away, and Becky gave Tobey a sullen look. He suspiciously avoided her eyes and reached for his own spoon. She sighed, reminding herself for the thousandth time that she had to be patient with him, when out of nowhere he switched again to his real voice and said, “Your ice cream is melting.”

She blinked at him, surprised. He didn't meet her eyes—just began tentatively picking at his banana split.

Becky offered a grin and an endearing shake of her head before turning back to her own dessert.

 _He_ is _making progress,_ she told herself, relishing another delectable spoonful of the ice cream he'd fetched her from across the globe.

“Can I… ask _you_ something?” Tobey ventured after a moment's silence. He spoke slowly and timidly, as though it was hard for him to talk to her without his accent.

“Of course,” Becky replied, meeting his eyes.

He looked down, his expression suddenly distant and ponderous. “I've been wondering,” he murmured, “what does 'real' mean for me?”

“Oh, well that's easy,” Becky said. “Real means genuine, honest, or authentic.”

Tobey stared at her for a moment with a blank look on his face, then said, “Right. So, who is the _real_ Tobey McCallister, then?”

Becky's chipper smile dissolved as she realized what Tobey was actually talking about. Now that she thought about it, she felt a bit silly for not suspecting it sooner, given the enormous change he'd undergone in just a few short months. Of _course_ he was struggling with his identity. How could he not be?

Tobey said nothing for a few seconds, but Becky kept decidedly quiet and waited nonetheless. This time she didn't want to say anything until she was sure she'd _listened_ enough.

“I want to believe that Tobey McCallister the shameless, destructive villain wasn't who I actually am,” he continued at last, finally meeting her eyes again. “But I can't help wondering… What if that _was_ the real me, and I'm just trying in vain to become something that I can never truly be?”

With that, he went quiet again, and Becky marveled at his honesty. He looked small and vulnerable sitting there in the booth across from her, withdrawing his arms to his sides as though afraid of what she would say. Becky could imagine what was going through his head, though she knew better than to assume she was right. She'd learned long ago that Tobey was far more complex than he seemed, and even though she knew that, he still managed to surprise her sometimes.

“Tobey,” she said in a soft, kind tone, “I want to tell you something that my Bampy once told me: 'People are made of two things: experiences and choices.' If you decide that there's something about yourself that you don't like, and you endeavor to change it, then the person you are at the end of the process is really you. It doesn't matter how different you end up from the way you started. You _choose_ who you want to be, and what you want to be like.”

Tobey took a sharp breath, his face twisting with frustration. “But everything felt so _natural_ before—even things like my voice that were an act! Ever since I decided to stop being a villain, _nothing_ has felt natural. Everything is difficult, and my 'good' behavior always feels… forced. Especially the 'controlling my temper' part. How can any of that be real?”

His flustered voice seemed to waver between the fake accent he was used to and the true accent he was ashamed of. The struggle so stirred Becky's sympathy that she lost track of her encouraging smile and had to make herself put it back on.

“Everything is hard at first,” she said. “When you're not used to something, you _have_ to force yourself to practice it. Eventually, practice turns into habit, and habit turns into nature. If you keep doing good, I'm sure you'll eventually feel comfortable in your own skin… _and_ your own voice, I hope.”

She winked, smiling at him. He returned her smile, still looking a little uncertain, and softly murmured without a trace of British accent, “Thank you, Becky. I really needed to hear that.”

“You're welcome,” she said with a nod. “Oh, and Tobey?”

“Yes?”

“Don't feel like you have to change _everything_ about yourself. Even back when you were a villain, there were plenty of things about you that were good.”

“Really?” Tobey asked, perking hopefully.

“Sure,” Becky chuckled.

Smiling from ear to ear, Tobey shrank bashfully into his seat and muttered in barely more than a whisper, “Like—Like what?”

Becky hesitated a moment, surprised to be put on the spot like that. She didn't want to make him feel bad by taking too long to think of something, but it was hard to think of something off the top of her head like this.

Fortunately, some examples came to mind right away. “Well, like your creativity and intelligence. I've seen your robots do some really great things when they weren't smashing buildings. Or take your competitiveness, for example. As long as you _do_ keep your temper under control and _don't_ cheat, it's good to be competitive. It can help drive you to accomplish amazing things.”

Becky could tell from the look on Tobey's face that her words had done him well. The frustration and insecurity were gone from his countenance, and he had his old spark back.

“Your ice cream is melting,” she chuckled, pointing to his banana split with her spoon.

He gave a distressed gasp and vigorously resumed eating, as did Becky… and she realized that she had been wrong. Tobey hadn't become a completely different person, or even a mostly different person.

Just a _better_ person.

 

« « « « « ж » » » » »

 

When they left the ice cream parlor, Tobey sent the Fridgeratron back to his house and offered to walk Becky home. She thought it was an amusing thing for him to do, considering they both knew she could fly home, but she couldn't say no to such a gentlemanly gesture, so she accepted.

He was struggling with the transition to his genuine voice, and when he spoke he tended to revert back to British, catch himself, and then repeat what he said without the accent. However, despite all that, Becky was surprised at how little Tobey talked during the trip. He seemed deep in thought—a state he went into more and more often since his decision to turn good. He always seemed to be contemplating something or another to the point that he appeared to be lost in his own little world.

Once or twice Becky caught him staring at her, only to avert his eyes as soon as she'd noticed. She still didn't quite know how she should feel about that sort of attention, but it didn't bother her as much as it used to.

When they reached her house it was still barely noon. She'd only spent a little over an hour with Tobey and yet it felt like they'd been together all day. Why _was_ that? Becky turned to say goodbye, but Tobey raised up his hands and said, “Would you mind—” (he halted, hemmed, and corrected his accent) “I mean, would you mind waiting just a bit? He'll be here any minute now.”

“Who will be here?”

No sooner than she'd asked, the Fridgeratron came zipping down the street and stopped in a hover before them.

“Perfect timing,” Tobey said, popping the robot open. “I had him pick this up from my house.”

Tobey pulled a package from the refrigerated compartment inside the robot, which he handed straight to Becky. It was neatly wrapped in green paper with a glossy purple ribbon.

“For me?” she asked rhetorically. “But why didn't you give it to me at my birthday party yesterday?”

Tobey blushed a little and hesitantly admitted, “I… wanted to give it to you when there weren't so many people around.”

Becky blinked, then giggled. It was so silly, it was charming. “Well, then, can I open it _now_?”

Tobey nodded. “Please.”

She pulled loose the ribbon, tore open the wrapping paper, and found herself holding a book.

“Princess Triana and the Ogre of Castlebum?” she read the title, a little confused. She tried not to sound ungrateful. She was happy that Tobey had thought of her at all, and it _was_ her favorite book. It was just… she already had this book. Tobey knew that. She thought he did, at least.

She looked up at him, seeking an explanation, or perhaps waiting for him to laugh and tell her that he was joking. Instead he just smiled and nodded toward the book. So, Becky opened the front cover, and saw that the first page was signed… by the author.

“You're kidding,” she murmured in disbelief, touching the signature with trembling fingers. “This is really K.J. Lowring's autograph?”

“I witnessed her sign it myself,” Tobey boasted, standing straight and tall.

“Oh, _thank you!_ ” she exclaimed, pouncing on Tobey and crushing him with a hug. She pulled back, staring at him in wide-eyed wonder as she happily babbled, “But how did you get it?”

Tobey looked dazed, like he was about to faint, but he shook his head and composed himself before she had much chance to worry. He cleared his throat and resumed his cocky air to respond. “Simple. I had one of my robots fly me to her house, and I offered to mow her lawn in exchange for her signature.”

“You got to _meet_ her?” Becky blasted, trembling with amazement and hugging the precious book to her chest.

“Certainly,” Tobey affirmed as though it were no big deal. “She's actually quite a personable woman.”

“Wow, Tobey… I'm so jealous.”

Tobey gave her an amused look and said, “What are you talking about? If _I_ was able to go and see her, I can't imagine _you_ would have any trouble.”

Becky came out of her dreamy stupor, feeling a little embarrassed. She let out a bashful chuckle and fingered at her hair, muttering, “Oh… I guess you have a point there.”

Tobey stared at her for a moment with that thoughtful look that Becky had grown accustomed to, and after a moment he quietly observed, “You really don't think about using your powers for yourself, do you?”

Becky paused. Tobey was just _full_ of surprises today. “Well, not _often_ ,” she said modestly.

Tobey's contemplative expression changed slowly into an adoring smile. His pale face took on a soft, rosy glow, and he whispered, “I… admire that about you.”

Becky felt something when he said that, though it took a moment for her to figure out what. The compliment had been so personal, so sweet, so unexpected… It made her feel happy, as well as a little uneasy for some reason.

 

« « « « « ж » » » » »

 

Becky walked quietly, somberly into her room, and found Bob sitting on her bed reading the newspaper. He squeaked an insolent inquiry and Becky defensively blasted, “It wasn't a date!”

The monkey raised a sly eyebrow at her and asked what she was holding.

Becky tensed, realizing with a twinge of embarrassment how tightly she was holding Tobey's gift to her chest.

“It's just a birthday present,” she insisted, feeling a little warm in the face. “It's an autographed copy of Princess Triana and the Ogre of Castlebum.

At that Bob abandoned all efforts to tease her, instead chirping excitedly and reaching out eager hands with twitching fingers.

Becky had half a mind to withhold it from him for a while, just to teach him a lesson, but she thought better of it. She didn't want to invite further insinuations about Tobey in retaliation. So she just smiled and handed the book to her sidekick, who carefully but immediately flung it open. In his eagerness, he flipped to the middle rather than the first page, and the book fell open to reveal a small envelope resting between the pages.

Bob blinked in surprise and glanced up at Becky. Puzzled, Becky picked up the envelope and gingerly opened it. Inside was a letter, tenderly and affectionately penned by skilled, careful hands.

 

_Dear Becky,_

_I hope you had a wonderful birthday. You certainly deserve it. I wish I could've done more for you to make the occasion special, but my imagination failed me. I hope to do better in future years. For now, I just want you to know that there isn't a soul on Earth more grateful for the day you were born than I am._

_Sincerely yours, TTM_

 

Becky stood speechless, clutching the letter in her hands. A smile had somehow sneaked its way onto her face, and she couldn't seem to get rid of it. Bob's curious chittering finally got her attention, and she composed herself.

“Oh, it's a… note… wishing me a happy birthday,” she said, folding the letter carefully back into its envelope and sliding it into her pocket. She'd have to find a good place to hide it later. Goodness knew what would happen if Bob or TJ got their hands on it. She was sure she'd never have the heart to throw it away, though.

Bob gave her a skeptical look, but thankfully he didn't press the issue. Instead, he turned to admire the autograph on the first page of the Princess Triana book, leaving Becky to her thoughts.

Six months… Had it really been _less_ than _six months_?

In the beginning, she had befriended Tobey out of duty. She had remained his friend out of pity. She had solidified their friendship out of genuine concern for his future, and yet… it wasn't until just recently that she'd realized—just how much she'd grown to _like_ being friends with him.

It made her wonder how _his_ feelings had changed.

Tobey had liked her for years—since long before she'd set out to reform him. If she could go from disliking him to liking him in a mere six months, how might those same months have affected Tobey when he'd been smitten with her from the very beginning?

The thought brought with it a slew of new emotions, and Becky shuddered. Finally, she realized that Tobey's friendship had come with a hidden price.

He had become someone she cared for a great deal… and now she had to come to terms with the possibility that she might break his heart someday.

So much for thirteen not feeling any different.

 

« ... »

 

_You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness._

— _Ephesians 4:22-24_

 

* * *

 

**Author's Notes:**

**- _How'd I do?_ _—_ If anyone out there read this story without reading _Saving Tobey_ first, I'd love to hear your thoughts on how well this fic stands on its own. Does it feel complete? Is it confusing anywhere? Your input is greatly appreciated!**

**- _Pretty Peas—_ If you've never seen the episode 'Best Fanclub Meeting Ever,' basically what happened was TJ got a letter from WordGirl saying that her favorite food was peas, and Tobey found out about it by the end of the episode. I used this nugget in _Saving Tobey_ as the final clue to convince Tobey that Becky is WordGirl.**

**- _Hug_ _—_ As much of a fluff junky as I am, I didn't have Becky hug Tobey just because I liked the cuteness of it. If you'll recall, what Becky does here with Tobey is exactly what she does with the bookstore owner Miss Libre in the episode 'Princess Triana and the Ogre of Castlebum.' At the end, when Becky thinks the book is sold out and is ready to despondently go home, Miss Libre hands her a copy of the book that she saved for her, and Becky tackles her with a very vigorous hug. I liked the parallel of having the same thing happen here. :)**

**- _Theme Song (That's right, I do theme songs. Readers of Saving Tobey won't be surprised by this. XP): “Up And Up_ _” by_ _Relient K_ _—_ This song pretty well describes where Tobey stands now that he knows he wants to change and he's committed to making it work this time. There are two versions of this song, the original and the acoustic, and they actually have different lyrics in the second verse. Both versions fit pretty well, though.**

**- _Theme Song: “_ _What I Am Dreaming Of_ _” by_ _Trading Yesterday_ _—_ This is what I imagine Tobey feels _after_ he and Becky parted ways this day: encouraged, determined, and hopeful for the future. :3**

 


End file.
